Of Temples and Ashes
by Iggy Lovechild
Summary: How do you survive your own death? one-shot


_Forgive these notes before the fic._

_Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They belong to Square/Enix and were created by a bunch of nice folks at Tri-Ace. _

_This is another old fic revision and it's quite strange. Based on the bonus dungeon in the Urssa Lava caves, which I know isn't strictly canon but had inspired me nonetheless. I wanted to explore the emotional ramifications of such an experience. About half of this fic has been re-written._

_**"Of Temples and Ashes"**_

Fayt kicked the creature to the ground with a solid strike to its side. It fell with low, angry cry and Fayt pinned it to the ground with a foot on its midsection. He lifted his sword, carefully aiming for the deathblow, and then it spoke.

"You wouldn't dare, maggot!"

It wore Albel's face and, despite the different clothes and hair; spoke with his voice. Fayt resisted the desire to glance over to where he'd last seen Albel fighting the doppelganger wearing his own face. If he did, the fake Albel might overcome him.

Instead he steeled his heart and brought the sword down to plunge into its chest. A sickening crunch of breaking bones was made as he thrust the sword deep into its flesh and it caused Fayt to wince. The thing wearing Albel's face roared in pain. Blood bubbled up from the wound but Fayt kept on pressing down on the hilt until the screaming stopped and its eyes went glassy and vacant.

Another cry of pain startled Fayt and he looked away from his gruesome handiwork. Albel had Fayt's twin by the throat, holding it a couple inches off the ground as he thrust his gauntleted prosthetic hand into its stomach. Its legs kicked helplessly but never struck home and soon enough it went limp. Albel threw it to the ground with a sneer.

"Worthless maggot," He snarled.

Despite the fact that he knew Albel would think that he was being silly and melodramatic, Fayt ran over to him and enfolded him into a fierce embrace.

To his credit, Albel did not push Fayt away, though he did stiffen slightly in surprise. After a tense moment he relaxed in Fayt's arms and stroked the nape of his neck with warm, slightly calloused fingers. Fayt shivered at the light, familiar touch; faint arousal cut through the horror of what he had just witnessed.

"Did it disturb you so much?" Albel murmured with an edge of amusement lacing his tone.

Fayt was too grateful for their survival to be terribly annoyed by Albel mocking him. He inhaled the pungent yet oddly sweet odours of sweat and fresh blood permeating Albel's skin. "How could I not be disturbed, Albel? We were fighting strange doppelgangers of ourselves! I…It was hard to fight something that looked like you."

"Fool," Albel scoffed lightly, "No matter what those things had looked like, they weren't us. Anyway, I don't know why you're so upset. We spar all the time; how was this any different aside from the outcome?"

Fayt wanted to laugh but could only let out a weak sigh. He almost envied Albel's ability to disconnect his emotions in certain situations. Restless and overwhelmed, Fayt lightly nibbled on Albel's earlobe. A part of him wanted to stay like this until the terrible distress over what they had done passed; the other part wanted to get the hell out of this temple, off the Barr Mountains, and to the nearest inn. He wanted the comfort, yet desperate relief made him want to pin Albel to a bed and kiss him breathless.

"I suppose that it was easier for you," Fayt whispered against his lover's ear, "Like some kind of closure…."

Albel pulled away slightly and scowled at Fayt. His stormy expression made Fayt wish that he could learn to keep his thoughts to himself. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Albel growled.

Fayt could only shrug sheepishly, "I only meant...well…You spent a long time wanting to kill me."

Albel's eyes narrowed and he was looking at Fayt in a manner that Fayt had not seen in quite some time. There was disappointment and condescension in those burgundy eyes and Fayt instantly felt like the lowest scum on earth. "Fayt…" Albel's tone was low and deceptively calm, "How long have we been traveling together?"

"Umm," Fayt considered his answer, "A few months, not counting the time we spent with everyone else."

"And in that time have I showed any indication that I still harboured a desire to kill you?" Albel's voice was still low and even but his gaze was furious.

"No," Fayt replied quietly.

"I do not take my personal affairs lightly," Albel continued, "What did you think? That I am with you as a ploy to gain your trust with the intent to betray you? That every moment of intimacy that we've shared is nothing more than a clever plot? Do you think that little of me?" He was growing increasingly agitated.

"Of course not," Fayt protested, "I didn't mean it that way…."

"I could kill that thing because it wasn't you, simple as that. It didn't fight like you; it didn't move like you; it wasn't even half as powerful as you. Hell, it didn't even smell like you!"

Fayt frowned slightly. Albel's body double had certainly seemed exactly like Albel to him, aside from the cosmetic differences. It had been just as graceful and deadly as the real Albel the Wicked and nearly as strong. Perhaps Albel was just coping in his own way, with denial instead of shock. Then again, the man practically ate, slept, and breathed the way of the sword. Maybe he could sense and notice things with those finely honed warrior's instincts that Fayt would never fully comprehend.

"Anyway," Albel's voice impinged on his thoughts, so soft that it nearly a whisper, "I knew that you would be by my side when it was all over. It was just another reason why I couldn't be bothered with whether or not that thing looked and sounded like you."

Fayt was a bit startled. Even if Albel's words were subtle it was not hard for Fayt to catch his meaning. When it came to his feelings Albel had a tendency to speak in vague riddles and half-voiced thoughts. He was not the sort of person to say certain things directly, like 'I love you' or spout mushy, meaningless romantic platitudes.

Caught up in an overwhelming surge of emotions, Fayt kissed Albel. There was no moment of discomfort from his lover when it came to the passionate union of their mouths. They had no shortage of emotion when it came to lust and desire, and Albel was not a shy or tentative man when it came to carnality in any shape or form.

"I'm sorry," Fayt murmured against Albel's lips, "It was not my intent to imply—"

He was cut off by another kiss, brusque and a little bit rough, but Fayt was far from complaining. "Don't," Albel growled when their lips parted, "It's not important."

Fayt exhaled a breath he hadn't even been aware of holding, "Okay. Let's get out of here."

Fayt pulled away from his lover and went back to the remains of the fake Albel. Without looking at the body he tugged his sword free and sheathed it.

Albel nodded silently, his expression one of approval.

Despite Fayt's bravado, he knew that what had happened in this horrible temple wouldn't soon be forgotten. He was uncharacteristically quiet as they made their way back down Barr Mountain path toward Arias. Fayt dearly hoped that he would be able to sleep peacefully tonight but truly doubted it. Fayt knew that he would never be able to fully shake the memory of watching the light dulling from Albel's eyes as he'd died.

**Fini.**


End file.
